


For the Blood is the Life

by Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels)



Series: Sean/Viggo Vampfic [1]
Category: LOTRPS
Genre: April Showers Challenge 2011, vampire AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-21
Updated: 2003-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:58:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lannamichaels/pseuds/Lanna%20Michaels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire!Sean, Human!Viggo</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the Blood is the Life

When Sean said that they had to talk, Viggo was perplexed. They had been living together for six months and Sean was scheduled to go back to England for a few days the next day. Viggo had expected wild sex to get Sean through the flight. He hadn't expected to talk.

And what was there to talk about? Unless Sean was about to break up with him, and things had been going very well the past few months. After half a year together, there were few things he didn't know about Sean.

He was about to learn one more.

Sean took Viggo by the hand after they finished a late dinner and brought him into the living room. Viggo attempted to sit on Sean's lap, but Sean was having none of it.

"You're going to need to see me to understand this, luv," Sean said as he led Viggo to his favorite chair. Sean sat at his feet and took his hands in his.

"What is it, Sean?" Viggo was beginning to get frightened. Sean was so solemn about this; Viggo almost didn't recognize him.

"I'm about to tell you something, Viggo, and I'm going to need you not to interupt me until I'm done." Sean took a deep breath and opened his mouth wide. Slowly, so slowly that Viggo thought he was imagining it, Sean's canines began to grow and lengthen. It wasn't noticable, really, until he blinked and when his eyes opened, Sean's teeth were longer. "Fangs," Sean said and licked the tips. "Rather useful." Then the fangs disappeared and Sean's normal smile was back. "I'm a vampire, luv," he said softly, massauging Viggo's hands in his. "Not like those trashy books you read, but, yes, I do need blood to survive."

Viggo licked his lips and Sean could tell that he didn't believe him.

"Sunlight makes my blood thin and so I have to feed more often. In a place and time like this, I need to feed once a week to keep up the facade. But I'm a thousand years old and can go much longer if the need arises."

That got Viggo's attention. "Thousand?" he mouthed.

"Give or take about fifty years."

"But-but I've seen your movies. And you're younger."

"I can age myself, it's not that hard."

"Children?"

"Adopted."

Viggo's hands were cold in Sean's and so Sean rubbed them between his own. He knew how information like this affected his lovers. First came the disbelief, then the rage, then the slow acceptance. The accusations should start just about...now. They were almost too predictable.

"You've been stealing my blood."

"Never. Think about it, Vig. Every so often I've gone off my myself. It is then that I feed. I don't need to kill," he added quickly. "Just a short drink. A mouthful if shooting hasn't been that bad. It needs to be warm. And it needs to be willing."

"You've been reading my mind."

"Only your emotions and only to make sure I don't do something phenomenally stupid."

"You're dead."

Well, that was a new one. Usually came with about a month later during the long talks he insisted they have. "Technically, yes. I died. My heart stopped. I no longer age. I no longer need to breathe, though it's a habit I've cultivated. I no longer need real food, though it can be a comfort at times. Especially tea."

"You hate to fly."

"Under my own power? Of course not. Under the power of something that can drop out under me at any time? Of course."

"...you can fly."

Sean smiled up at Viggo. "I'll take you sometime. It's very thrilling."

"Why are you telling me this?!"

Ah. The eternal question. "Because I love you. And my rule is half a year. If I don't feel comfortable enough to admit to everything after half a year, then I move on. If I do feel comfortable, I tell all."

"How didn't I notice?"

"It's subtle. You have to know what to look for. The fact that you can't wake me up once I'm asleep. That, even after I've gone long away from the food tent, I'm not fatigued. That I'm almost *too* keen with a blade. That I can't truly get drunk."

And then Viggo said something no human had ever said to Sean. "I want to be your only one."

"Pardon?" The emotions coming off from Viggo were confusing. Sean wasn't sure what to make of them.

"The only one who feeds you. The only one you drink from. Until I get too old to do it, and then I want you to kill me. I want to die knowing that I've spent all my time with you, and that I've given you the only gift that matters to you."

"You want to be my companion?"

Viggo's brow furrowed. "If that is the word, yes."

"Stay with me always. Feed me when I need it. In return I give you sex, I give you life. You give me companionship and I give you a glimpse of the everlasting."

"Just a glimpse," Viggo repeated just to make sure. "I don't want eternal life."

"Few do," Sean answered ruefully. "So many people say they do, but don't have what it takes to live while everyone around you dies."

"You must be lonely."

"Not with you."

Viggo's heart melted. "Love you, Sean." Then he paused. "Is that your..."

"Real name? Yes. 'Bean' was the name of the couple that agreed to pretend I was their son so I could have a solid foundation in these times."

"I love you, Sean."

"I love you as well." Sean leaned forwards and up and kissed Viggo hard. Mid-kiss he paused and did what he'd been wanting to do for a long time. He let his fangs down half-way and nipped Viggo's lower lip, sending the first drop of that precious blood down his throat.

Life was perfect.

\--

Viggo heard voices in the living room. It wasn't very unusual. The neighbors stopped by every so often for a cup of sugar and some talking. No one minded that the Great Sean Bean lived next to them. For the elderly couple who lived next to them, Sean was just a nice lad who didn't have wild parties at all hours of the night. But they never stopped by after seven at night, and it was long past dinner-time.

Viggo put down his paintbrush and descended the stairs slowly. He didn't mind leaving the painting half-done. He wasn't getting anywhere with it anyways and some time away might do it some good. Or maybe he'd scrap it and try again later. Choices, choices.

Turning the corner from the back staircase into the kitchen area, Viggo was surprised to find that the voices had stopped somewhere along the line and he hadn't noticed. Sean would have heard him coming, but that was only because Sean, well, Sean could hear things. Like Viggo's heartbeat, and the tick of the alarm system, and the mouse that used to live in the walls. And what the man in the next aisle over was thinking about two men being openly affectionate in the grocery store. But that was Sean.

The voices started up again, quieter this time, but Viggo could hear every word. "Your new one, Sean?"

"None other." Sean's voice was curiously inflected, like he had spent the last hour or so speaking a different language and the confines of an alien dialect were still stuck to his tongue. Viggo knew the feeling. "You can come in, Viggo. Loren doesn't bite."

"Of course I do," Loren, whoever that was, chided Sean and Viggo closed his eyes briefly before opening the door that seperated the kitchen from the living area. Sean and the other man stood as Viggo entered, Loren inclining his head slightly in more a bow than an acknowledgment. Viggo took a seat in the closest chair. Sean was on the couch and Loren was hovering before the mantlepiece, staring at pictures.

"Viggo, this is Loren. He's an old friend. Loren, Viggo Mortensen."

"At your service, sir." Loren turned his head towards Viggo and nodded again.

"Pleased to meet you," Viggo returned.

"Loren dropped by this afternoon," Sean said by way of explanation.

"To remind you of something you should have remembered. Or were you procrastinating?"

"I doubt you'll believe me, Lore, since you haven't so far, but I completely forgot about it."

Viggo looked from one to the other and felt his unease grow. If Sean hadn't wanted him to intrude on his conversation with his friend, then Viggo would have stayed upstairs, completely oblivious to what was going on downstairs. But he had been given an itch in the back of his mind to descend, and now this strange man - 'vampire,' his mind whispered - was talking about some mysterious duty that Sean had forgotten. Viggo shifted uncomfortably and his fingers flexed unconsciously to his left wrist where Sean had drunk the night before. His nails dug into the marks and he slumped unconscious. Sean caught him before he could fall from the chair, holding Viggo's limp chest in his arms. His eyes raised of their own accord and he glared at Loren.

"If I end up having to lose him, Lore..." he left the threat unfinished, but not incomplete.

"Don't worry, Sean. Everything will be fine."

"That's what _you_ say! You've never had to worry."

"And neither do you, if everything you've told me about your Mr. Mortensen is true."

Sean bent down to kiss Viggo's hair gently, smothering his face in its roughness. He enfolded his lover completely in his arms, making sure that none of Viggo's limbs would be able to get free of him and took a deep breath, more out of reflex than an attempt at calming.

"Shall we go?"

"I will have your hide," Sean said clearly, and then flew away. He knew the next week would be more than nerve-wracking. Viggo would sleep through it. Sean, on the other hand, would be put through the ringer. He hated this. He hated the necessity of it. He hated that Erik couldn't come to England and do it properly.

\---

Viggo awoke from his lethargy without realizing that there was a difference between oblivion and the complete darkness of the room. He felt a curious lack of energy, which he thought was odd. He was never this slow to wake up. But lifting a hand seemed like an ordeal and not worth the effort. He frowned in concern.

"It'll wear off soon."

Even turning his head to find his lover seemed too much of a bother, but Viggo attempted anyway, forgetting that, in the total darkness, Sean could see him, but he couldn't see Sean. "Sean?" There was a hitch in his voice and he didn't know how it got there, only knowing that it shouldn't be there. Something important had happened, some little voice told him. That's why you aren't in your bed back in Sean's house in London. That's why you're in a too-soft bed instead of at home where you should be.

"Shh," Sean soothed, and his hand reached out to touch Viggo's, sending Viggo's attention to his left. Of course. Sean always sat to his left. "I'm right here."

Viggo kept his eyes trained in the direction of Sean's voice and slowly a shape evolved from the black. "What's going on?"

Sean chose to take that as a question as to Viggo's enforced fatigue. "I had to keep you under for several days. The effects tend to linger, though you will be fine within three hours."

"I don't understand."

Sean bent to kiss Viggo's hand. His lips lingered, brushing against the thin skin. His eyes stayed locked on Viggo's, though Viggo had no way of knowing. "Twenty-some years ago, one of my kind took for himself a companion. He was blinded by his love for her and so didn't realize her murderous intentions until it was too late. And so Rafael is dead, and we made it a rule to screen our companions. More precisely, an impartial member of our community screens our companions. It was thought," Sean gave a derisive laugh here, not without a little pain, "It was thought that, having no emotional ties to the mortal, the job would be easier. Erik was unwilling to come to England. Therefore, I had to bring you here."

Viggo digested that slowly. He had taken much of what Sean was in stride. But this was a little too close to those novels that Sean was always deriding. "What would have happened if I hadn't passed?"

"You would have been sumiliarily beheaded."

Viggo winced. "Would you have done it?"

Sean paused and then shook his head. "No."

"I would have wanted you to."

"I couldn’t bear to-"

"You promised me you’d kill me."

"When old age took you," Sean reminded him gently. "When you asked me to, and never before."

"But not then."

"A violent death...is something I could never give you."

Viggo nodded slowly. "Where am I?" Preliminaries aside, he was curious as to where Sean had brought him without his knowledge. As to Sean's unwillingness to fulfill a promise, well, they would discuss that later.

"Romania." Sean turned Viggo's hand over and licked up his palm. He pushed light into Viggo's eyes, adjusting them slowly so he could see.

"Then the stories...?"

"You read too many of those."

Viggo felt strangely bereaved at that. "Then I won’t have to-"

"Call me ‘master’? No. Act subservient? No. Why? Do you want to?"

"I-well," Viggo cursed himself for not being able to finish sentences properly. "Dammit, Sean, you can see into my head."

"But I want you to say it. If you don’t acknowledge it, then how dare I?" Sean’s thumb stroked the inside of Viggo’s wrist in a soothing circular motion. "But we can talk about that later," he said softly. "You’re hungry."

Viggo froze. He was beginning to see properly and the room looked like he had always imagined a medieval dungeon to. Except that he was lying on a king-sized Certa mattress. "How long have I been here?"

"Eight days."

More than a week, then. Viggo’s free hand flew to his neck and then slowly dropped. "You _bastard_." He rolled to his right as quickly as the slowly-fleeing fatigue would let him, not stopping until he was huddled in the far corner of the room. Sean had broken his promise. Not just one in theory, like killing him, but a practical one. That fucking bloodsucker. He _promised_.

"Viggo..."

"You look human!" It was almost a sob and Viggo buried his face in his arm so he wouldn't cry. "You look perfect, flawless. And there are no holes on me. You’ve, you've been drinking from someone else!"

"Viggo! I swear on all that’s holy that I have not." Sean was standing and looking rather unsure of himself in that position. He had planned on this being a joyful reunion after the hell that he had gone through while waiting for Erik’s verdict. And now Viggo was upset because he had put care into his appearance?! "I look normal to you because I have not expended any energy at all this week into looking human. There’s an added boost to being around so many vampires. Add to that that I don’t have to hide what I am, I don’t have to go out in sunlight, and that I didn’t want to scare you, and you have that I look perfectly normal. Do you want me to drop the façade? I’m not hungry, Viggo. There’s a slight ache, but I’m not feeding on you until you’re back to full strength, so don’t suggest it. I told you I needed once a week, and that’s true. But that was in the New Zealand sun and having to act on top of having to appear mortal. I haven’t broken my promise to you. I swear it."

"Truly?"

"Yes, Viggo. I haven't even looked at a mortal. I've been by your bedside, you bloody fool! You don't know how you looked. Dead to the world I can live with. But you were pale and in the trance so deep I worried I wouldn't be able to lead you out of it. And what with Erik going through your mind, I almost had to be restrained! So you'll excuse me if I'm happy that you're awake and none the worse for wear."

Viggo was quiet for a long time, then he swallowed. "I'm sorry."

Sean deflated at the broken sound of Viggo's voice. Viggo's confused, he reminded himself sternly. He's trying to deal with something that he has not the capacity to understand. Getting angry and frustrated won't help. Sean blinked himself over to Viggo's corner and crouched down, taking Viggo's wrists in his hands, seperating Viggo's arms enough to lift him up. "It's okay, love," he said quietly and leaned over to kiss Viggo's forehead. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I was just so worried. I didn't want to lose you." He felt tentative lips touch his jaw in what could pass for a kiss and, relieved, he scooped Viggo up into his arms like a child. "Let's get you something to eat. There's supposed to be a buffet around here somewhere."

Viggo nodded wordlessly, resting his head on Sean's shoulder. Sean patted Viggo's back comfortingly before setting off for the dining hall. Their tempers should level out once Viggo had a chance to eat and Sean could see that Viggo hadn't been harmed by what he had been forced to do.

\----

"We need to talk."

"About your fantasies." It wasn't a question. Sean could read Viggo's intent in his face and his stance and the way his hands were shaking in his lap. "You want me to fulfill them."

"Yeah. You've read my books?"

"Some of them. I can read more of them. Completely trash, of course. What would I do once I had the world under my grasp? Throw a keg party?"

Viggo smiled at that, then faltered. "There's...there's one." He licked his lips and looked away. "Nevermind," he said abruptly. He pushed himself away from Sean's embrace and turned his back to him. "Forget I said anything."

Sean pressed his hand flat against Viggo's spine and curled his fingers in slightly. "Viggo," his voice took on a comforting tone, and with his hand on top of the first mark he had ever given his lover, Viggo couldn't help but relax. Sean hated seeing Viggo tense. "You don't have to say it. Think it strongly and I will see it."

Viggo nodded, grit his teeth, and closed his eyes tightly. His breathing hitched as he entered the familiar daydream, but he could almost feel Sean siphoning off the details.

Sean paused for a long moment and thought about what he'd saw. It was nothing that he hadn't expected, but Viggo seemed aware that he was asking a lot of Sean. "You want me to do this to you?"

"Yes."

"Very well," Sean allowed. "Then we'll do it. When you're ready and not beforehand. We'll talk it over before we go into details - I caught a lot from your dream, but there might be something more you want - and I'll be monitoring your mind through it. If you ever want to stop, I'll stop. If you want me to continue, I'll continue. Good?"

Viggo turned back to Sean and his smile was pure gratitude. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble for me," Sean reminded him, though it wasn't strictly true. He wasn't a violant man by nature, but he was a dominant one. Acting a master wouldn't be hard. Acting a harsh master, on the other hand, would probably make him very grateful to all his training in faking it. "You're the one who's going to hurt."

\---

Sean built the illusion carefully. Viggo was on his knees in the center of the room and, as much as Sean appreciated the gesture, it wouldn't work. Viggo had too many expectations for Sean to fulfill from an unadorned room. Sean planted a soft compulsion in Viggo's mind to stand up and place his back against the far wall. Sean painted chains holding Viggo's arms out parallel to the floor and his head painfully straight. The floor became the old rough stone that used to be found in Sean's office, and clamps appeared in playful positions on Viggo's naked body. Sean added several at the curve of Viggo's arm just for variety in sensation. Viggo had wanted to go back in time with the roles and a master during Sean's birth age would never have given a slave a chance to learn anticipation. Sean added the slow memory of old torture, layering it with bouts of submission and slave training, long in completion, that had climaxed with Viggo's will being irreversably broken. If Viggo wanted to go in, Sean would take him in all the way. He was never one to leave anything half done.

The comfortable basement became the old study of the lord of where Sean had lived back when he had been a simple blacksmith. There were open wounds festering on Viggo's arms and legs and a rough scar where another slave had taken a knife to him. Sean had killed the other slave. No one tries to castrate his property and lives. Sean let Viggo's ripe immagination fill in his past, only adding small details here and there. Viggo had been born in servitude and had been taught from childhood that he would be the master's meat once he was old enough. He had had the typical rebellion but had been brought in coldly and with a whip before it could get out of hand. Now he hung in restraints, waiting for his master to declare him ripe and ready.

When Viggo could add no more to his supposed 'past', Sean entered the room, making sure Viggo understood them to be heavy wood, carved with symbols that denoted Sean's rank and wealth. Viggo didn't move his eyes to try to track the noise. Good. So the illusion was complete. Viggo truly thought he was bound in chains. Sean affected an almost bored attitude as he approached Viggo. He had toyed with the idea of turning back his dialect to his birth age, but had ultimatly decided against it. Viggo would be thrown already. He didn't need to aggravate the condition.

Sean took Viggo's jaw in place and turned it so he was looking at Viggo's left profile, then his right. "Lesson learned, human?"

Viggo lowered his eyes, but said nothing.

Sean's lips curled up into a cruel smile, exposing his distended fangs. "My shirt," he said gruffly, pointing to the garment. "My vest. My pants. My boots. My human. Understand?"

Viggo nodded.

Sean tightened his grip. "Words."

Viggo tugged hard against the bare wall, struggling futily against his mental chains. He was developing an erection, Sean noted, and added a tight ring of metal just underneath Viggo's balls. Sean deliberated for a moment, then pierced Viggo's nipples and imagined foreskin. "I understand, master," Viggo said slowly, thickly. Ah, yes. Viggo imagined he had just been beaten soundly, that his ribs were bruised. Of course Sean's hand on his jaw would make the internal wounds hurt all the more.

"Good," Sean dismissed and turned on his heel. He made way to his desk, releasing Viggo's bonds as he did so. Viggo tumbled to the floor and looked lost for a moment before crawling after Sean.

"Kiss my feet, human," Sean ordered, then picked up a scrap of paper and pretended to ignore his lover, who huddled at his feet in as close to a fetal position as he could manage what with broken bones and ribs and whatever else Viggo had decided to take on. The paper happened to be the first page of a new script that had been sent to Viggo and Viggo had given it to Sean for a read-through before tackling it himself. Sean could read quickly and he knew what roles Viggo liked to take. As for the measure of control that gave him over Viggo's career, Viggo had never even considered the matter. It was one of those things that made Sean's heart swell even more. Viggo didn't have a crooked bone in his body. It was...endearing.

The script wasn't that bad, actually. It apparently had been selected before Viggo was too known as Aragorn, so there was no type-casting. Sean could speak from experience that type-casting wasn't all that bad, but for an artist like Viggo, it would be intolerable. He laughed at the incongruousness of it all. Viggo, at his feet, licking his boots like he got off on doing it, was fully convinced that the Norman invasion hadn't happened yet, and Sean was perusing a script for a motion picture. Sean made a cursory inspection of Viggo's mind and found him completely absorbed in his task, a beaten and submissive slave pleasing his inhuman master. It was everything Viggo had requested. He really did read too many of those books.

Sean put the script down and let it thud. Viggo looked up from his master's boots, more out of shock at the noise than curiosity as to what his master was going to do next.

"On my knees." Sean swept aside some papers and bills and Viggo climbed onto his knees and resumed his kneeling position, resting most of his weight on the desk. Sean stared into his eyes for a long moment, doing his best to immitate what the books had described as mind control, and Viggo's head slowly began to descend onto Sean's shoulder. Sean's hand rubbed its way along Viggo's spine to calm his slight shivers, and then Sean sunk his teeth into the base of Viggo's neck. He took only enough to swallow and then pulled back, retracting his fangs. "Did my meat like that?"

Viggo nodded into Sean's shoulder, momentarilly wordless. Sean had 'rolled' his mind, as one of the books had called it. He had given Viggo immense pleasure in return for a little lifeblood. Usually Viggo didn't notice the sting and the blood loss, but it was his fantasy. Viggo hadn't seemed to care that, in doing it, Sean would have to manipulate his mind more than he ever had. Giving direct pleasure was a heady experience. It also could overload and turn into pure, undilluted pain. Viggo hadn't cared about that, either.

  
\---

Sean was sipping tea when Viggo came downstairs, looking bleary-eyes and much the worse for wear. Sean handed over the tea without comment and sat Viggo down on his lap.

"Did you like it, Viggo?" Sean asked quietly after enough time had gone by. Viggo was a comfortable weight on his legs and he wished he could keep Viggo there always and not have to let him out for silly necessities like painting and acting and taking a leak.

"I'm not sure," Viggo matched Sean's tone exactly and leaned back against him, seeking some comfort. "Ask me in a week."

"Very well."

When Sean came back from refilling the tea half an hour later, he found Viggo prone on the sofa, sleeping like a child. Sean picked the dominant thought from Viggo's mind: uncertainty as to who Sean was. Sean sighed and rubbed at his eyes. He had been afraid of that. Some roads were better not tread. There would be a lot of explanations come morning.

But for now, Sean lifted Viggo up easily and carted him upstairs for sleep. Loren smiled from the corner and flew away.

\---

  
And they all lived happily ever after, for the rest of their days.


End file.
